The Ghosts of Eras
by Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay
Summary: The Emperor sends one of his Hands to the dead world of Eras to retrieve an Ashlan Holocron. It doesn't go well. Rated T for imagery.


The Ghosts of Eras: A Halloween fic

Disclaimer: Not the big guy!

Plot: Sidious sends one of his Hands to Eras to collect an Ashlan holocron. However, it doesn't go well.

A/N This ties into my fic Oath, so if you don't understand bits of it then you should read Oath.

A/N2: Thanks lionesseyes for giving this a once over!

Mo couldn't believe it-- he was being sent to a dead planet to retrieve a holocron. He wasn't sure whether he should be insulted that he'd have no resistance in the theft or if he should be relieved at the simplicity of the assignment.

The console beeped to let him know that the ship had exited hyperspace.

He watched as the planet came closer.

His Master had insisted that he read everything about the Ashlans. There wasn't much about them except that they were a group of Force users that met their end by the Sith a thousand years ago. The Sith had a little more on them, like that they had destroyed the Order of Ashla/Bogden and sold the rest of the people into slavery, missing only those that hadn't been on-world at the time.

They deserved it.

"_What did we do to the Sith to deserve death?"_ a disembodied female voice asked. Mo turned around and searched the Force for the source of the voice but found nothing.

Unnerved, Mo landed the ship in the remains of a hanger.

As he exited the ship, the wind blew, making eerie noises as it blew through the empty city. Mo shivered involuntarily.

It was unnerving to be on a world where there was no life at all.

After a moment, he headed to the Temple of Ashla/Bogden.

Once inside, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. When he could see, he wished that he couldn't again.

Skeletons, some still wearing tattered robes, littered the floor, many of them clutching Ashlan lightwhips. Gashes marred the walls and floor, and bits of machinery were scattered here and there on the floor as were parts of the ceiling that had fallen over the years.

"So this all that's left of the Ashla/Bogden Order. You must not have given the Sith much of a fight," Mo said disdainfully.

"_We fought with honor; it was the Sith that didn't fight with honor,"_ a man's voice said.

Mo reached out with the Force to search for the man but found nothing.

Disconcerted, he left the entrance hall and moved deeper into the Temple.

Every so often, he thought that he caught movement out of the corner of his eye or he would see something shimmer in the shadows. Yet, every time he turned to look he find nothing.

"_You will not get your filthy hands on our holocrons,"_ a female voice hissed.

"_We will destroy you if you do!"_ snarled another voice.

"_You will pay for what the Sith did to us!" _Yet another voice growled.

"_Your Master's rule will soon come to an end."_

Mo turned to see an older woman walking towards him. Her long silvery hair was a mass of braids. Her beautiful white robes with black splotches was marred by a hole made by a lightsaber where her heart should have been.

Behind her was a man about her age. Like her, he was wearing white and black robes. However, he was carrying his head in his right arm.

For the first time in a long while, Mo was afraid of something besides his Master.

"_You fear us. You should. We can rip you to shreds or tear your memories out of your mind,"_ the man said.

Mo forced himself to turn away from them and to continue on.

"_I want my children back," _A woman with hair blacker than outer space and blood soaked robes cried.

"_Where's my sister?" _a young man demanded in a high-pitched tone.

Icy fear flooded Mo's veins. Never before in his life had he heard about anything quite like this.

"_Does the little Sith fear some deceased Ashlans?" _Another black haired woman with ripped and bloody robes asked.

Mo pushed on until he reached his destination: the North Tower. It took him awhile to force the door open.

The room, to his surprise, didn't contain many artifacts useful to a Force User. In fact, it looked like a bedchamber, but there was a holocron sitting on a table.

Mo sighed with relief and called the holocron to his hand. _Finally, _he thought, _I can get out of here!_

He turned to leave only to be seized by the ghosts.

"_We warned you!" _The first woman hissed. "_Now you will pay!"_

They carried him into the Temple's lower levels and strapped him to a table.

"_Consider it payback." T_he woman in the blood soaked robes said.

"NOOO!" Mo screamed. "NOOOOOOOOO!"


End file.
